


Chocolates and Rings, Amonsgt Other Things

by SorryForWhatISaidWhenDrunk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, One-Shots, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tomoine - Freeform, WIP, dramoine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-04-03 23:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14006856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorryForWhatISaidWhenDrunk/pseuds/SorryForWhatISaidWhenDrunk
Summary: A collection of one-shots with no specific set pairings or theme. Might expand upon them if I get requests to. Rating may change!





	1. Hermoine Granger, The Girl Who Lived

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a collection of one-shots and short little drabbles that I get inspired to write and lay claim to occasionally, but won't make into actual stories unless I get multiple requests to.  
> There are no specific and set couples, though I might write more of one couple than I do another based on personal preference. Requests are accepted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord...Born to those who could not defend, born as the ninth month reaches its peak...And the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal in all but blood, but she will know power the Dark Lord knows not...And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the ninth month reaches its peak
> 
> The fabric of time is strong, yet fragile and changeable. What happens when something that was supposed to happen, didn’t?
> 
> Harry grows up with loving parents and a normal childhood. But in a fit of rage, Voldemort leaves another child an orphan. Meet Hermoine Granger, Chosen One, The Girl Who Lived.

October 31, 1981

Jean Granger smiled as the tot in front of her played with a book. So much like herself when she was younger.

It was one of her last nights off of work. Of course, being a co-owner of your own business made it to where you could dictate your own work schedule, but she never liked to be away for long. She was hard-working, and having to take out time of her work to take care of her child had really dampened her spirit. At the same time, she hated the thought of hiring a nanny or a sitter to partially raise and take care of her little girl.

Neither of them had any other family, either, so having someone closer her was out of the question.

And while it wasn’t a position her or her husband were quite fond of, Jean had convinced Richard that taking turns on and off of work at a time would have to work until she’s old enough to start school and be on her own throughout the day.

Of course, while she was excited to return, she wasn’t going to waste these little moments with their baby. Even at 13 months old, she had already begun talking (although they were mainly just baby babbles) and she was quickly learning to stand on her own (though she had to prop and hold herself up on a table to steady herself). She had skipped crawling, just like her husband did when he was a baby too.

As she watched her daughter turn the pages sloppily in her little plastic book, a loud ‘boom’ that rattled the whole house startled her. She narrowed her eyes as she watched a picture frame on the wall rattle violently. It was nearly midnight, and the only reason she was up so late with her daughter was because the toddler had refused to fall asleep. Surely one wouldn’t be doing construction or playing their music to be heard down the street this loud, this late?

Suddenly, the front door to the house burst open. Startled, Jean quickly grabbed her daughter in her arms and held her close, maneuvering her larger body to shield her daughters. When she took note that the intruder was her husband, she slumped in relief and turned, but stopped short. She did not miss the urgent and scared look in his eye, nor the way he was panting, one hand bracing himself on the doorway as tried to catch his breathe.

Richard Granger never ran, unless it was important. 

“Jean-down the street-I don’t know whats happening.” Richard said, stuttering the words out between gasps for air.

On edge, she shifted her daughter in her arms and approached her husband. “Richie, whats going on? What did you see?” She tried to crane her neck past her husband to see what was going on down the street that had him so spooked, when she heard a large explosion happen, much like the one she heard earlier. Maybe it was the open door or her proximity to it, but this one, for some reason, sounded closer.

Frantically, he pushed her away from the doorway entrance and looked behind him. She watched him grow pale as the sound of another explosion went off; only this time, the sound of screaming joined the mix. It made Jean’s blood run cold, and she instantly hugged the baby in her arms closer to her.

“Jean, we have to go. I don’t know whats happening, but there are people down this street, crazy people holding sticks and saying weird words...anyway, they must be some kind of weird fireworks or gas. But people are dropping dead, Jean. I don’t know how or why, but its almost like...magic. Evil magic. We need to get you two out of here, before they come for us too.” Her husband rambled frantically, grabbing two coats and a miniature one for their daughter and hastily tried to put it on her, fumbling in his haste to secure it. 

“Richard, Richard, please, calm down! This may just be some kind of weird and sick prank people are pulling. Its Halloween, teenagers and kids are known to do stupid things and pull tricks. They’re probably just trying to freak the younger kids out, okay? Lets just calm down, alright?” She took his hand with one of hers and squeezed it, running her thumb over the back of it. 

“No, Jean, these guys- I can’t describe it. But they’re not kids, nor are they joking around. I feel that they’re dangerous, and I think we need to get out of here as soon as we can. Please, Jean, lets g-”

His words were cut short when they heard the unmistakable sound of their gate opening to the house. 

Richard looked at his wife and saw the fear etched in, growing by the second, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. 

“Honey, its probably just some trick or treaters, y’know? Lets go answer them. Come on, I’ll show you your being ridiculous.” She said shakily, tightening her grip on his hand and leading him to the still-open front door. 

Richard, seeing his brave and determined wife stride towards the door, quickly threw himself in front of her as they walked, determined himself to keep them safe.

When they got to the door, their bodies froze and chills swept down their bodies.

There on the path leading to the front porch, was what they could only determine had to be the devil himself.

Pale blue, maybe white in this light, with a flat face, two nostril slits and snake-like eyes, was a man in black/dark blue robes. There was a sense of darkness and despair surrounding him, one that invoked fear into the young couple. In his hand was a black, polished looking stick, that they found pointed right at them.

Everything next seemed to happen in slow motion.

Jean saw her husband go to open his mouth, not sure of what would come out. 

She saw a bright green light flash before her eyes and strike her husband dead center in the chest.

She watched in horror as his body crumbled to the ground, lifelessly, as the strange man smiled at him. 

Almost like an out of body experience, she watched herself hold onto her daughter for dear life and turn on her heel, dashing up the stairs of their two-story house and into the nearest room she could find.

She watched herself lock the door and turn, her back facing the door as she took in her surroundings, and time sped up to the present.

She realized only vaguely that she was in her daughters nursery, as she rushed over and set her down in her little wooden crib. 

She didn’t know what was happening, but she knew, she could feel it deep in her core, that it wasn’t good. She knew that she probably wouldn’t make it through the night, still trying to process her husbands dead body and that strange light she saw. 

She snapped out of her daze, though, when she heard footsteps slowly climb up the stairs, and the door knob rattle. 

She turned to her little girl in the crib, blinking up at her so innocently and unknowingly, as she wiped the tears from her face. She bent down and hugged her little girl, holding her close to her, as she heard the door open behind her. She kissed her forehead and whispered to the little girl, as she felt the presence behind her approach closer. 

“I love you, sweet girl. I love you so much. Mummy and Daddy love you so much sweetness. My little girl, I’m so sorry. We love you, baby. We love you. Be brave, little girl. My smart, brave, sweet little girl.” She whispered and choked out through her sobs to the little girl, peppering her head with kisses and holding her impossibly tight. “My little Hermoine.”

Tearful, confused, little brown eyes were the last thing Jean saw before her world went black, and her body crumpled on itself, and the sound of silence surrounded her.

 

“Sir,”

“What is it, Severus?”

“They have found a survivor.” 

 

That night, strange meteor showers and sparks lit up every sky in Britain. Cheers, drinks, merriment and celebration was running free as the news of the Dark Lord demise had spread like wildfire across the State.

It was as if the country itself had breathed a sigh of relief, and an air of peace and happiness filled every household and person, as everyone cheered the name of their savior and newest celebrity. From that night onward, the name of the one to take down Voldemort, the Dark Lord, would be etched in every stone tablet and printed down in every book. All children growing up would learn and never forget the name.

Hermoine Jean Granger, Chosen One, and The-Girl-Who-Lived.


	2. Beauty and the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's revolting, despicable, and horrifying. He's beastly and evil. She's forgiving, kind and she thought she could see past his differences. But that was always the problem, wasn't it? She thought too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one-shot! This one is the ever so famous Beauty and the Beast AU, with a Tomoine twist. Thanks to those who left Kudos and read! I really appreciate it!

Once Upon A Time…

In a kingdom far, far away, lost to time, there lived a prince. A Prince most handsome, his grace known throughout the land. Hair as dark as night, skin as pale as the moon outside, lips more red then the wild garden rose, and eyes that burned a deep, midnight blue that lay your mortal soul bare before him.

For ages, his royal family had lived in a palace most spectacular, made of polished stone, stretching and resting upon the edge of a cliff, overlooking the sea, a great lake, and a dense forest. The castle had so many wings, layers, towers, staircases, why, it took over a thousand maids and servants to keep the place tidy and in shape. Indeed, the family, especially the Prince, seemed to have it all. Good looks, riches, charisma, and devoted followers.

But he was still lacking.

His followers didn’t know, nor did they dig, to see what he did behind the scenes. They didn’t see the mysterious disappearances that happened so close and randomly in the forest surrounding the castle, people who wandered in, never coming back out. They didn’t hear the howls and the roars of mysterious creatures whom no one ever saw, but still feared. 

They didn’t see the suppression of the poor, the abuse of the weaker, and the unhappiness and disrespect of the kingdom to its Prince, soon to be King. 

And if they saw, the aristocrats, the few who are allowed to be graced by his highness’s presence, didn’t bat an eye. For they, if on the throne, wouldn’t do anything different.

And they especially didn’t see the villages and towns starving as they came to collect taxes most could barely afford, taking women, men and children of all ages as payment if you couldn’t cough the set amount up every month.

How those taxes and money went to decorate the castle with useless décor, throw lavish parties that only the wealthiest were invited to, and how it was wasted on wine and ale.

No one of importance saw, much less cared, about the wrongdoings and the evils committed in the kingdom. No one...except one.

And it was during one of these parties, that the kingdom was forever changed.

 

“Oh how divine!

Glamour, music, and magic combine

See the maidens to anxious to shine

Look for a sign that enhances

Chances

She’ll be his special one!  
What a display!

What a breathtaking, thrilling array

Every prince, every dog has his day

And I’ll sing with passion, gusto, fit to bust!

Oh, not a care in the world!”

The prince sat on his throne in the ballroom, rubbing his temples as he watched his guests twirl and dance, exaggerating moves to get his attention. Why had he hired that short little half-goblin to sing again? He could already feel a migraine coming on. 

If it were up to him, he’d never have any more balls, no more stupid dances and large dresses that could smother you in your sleep. No more anxious and desperate girls throwing themselves at him in order to seem pleasing, to seem worthy and snag the spot as future-queen.

He scoffed at the idea mentally. Romance, fake or real, of any kind, would never be on his to-do list. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts rudely by the infuriating little half-blood hitting a high note that sounded more like a banshee screech to him than anything remotely related to music. 

Letting out a tired sigh, he returned to watching his guests act and dance like fools, unaware of the danger that approached.

 

One night, an unexpected intruder arrived at the palace gates. She was haggard and hideous in appearance, her clothes and cowl drenched from the raging storm outside. Her skin was oily and full of blackheads, her nose hooked and protruding at an awkward angle. She had warts all over her face, and greasy, limp gray hair hung around her head, her dull brown eyes staring up into his. Her back was hunched and dis formed horridly, while her fingers were wrinkly and bony. She reeked of filth, of someone who hadn’t bathed in years, and her clothes were smudged and dirty, most likely once a lovely color, before the dirt and mud had covered up whatever it used to be. 

As a gift, for exchange for shelter, she dug out of her robe a single, blood red rose.

However, repulsed by her haggard and ugly appearance, the prince warned her away. He threw the rose to the ground and laughed, as did his followers, at the ugly woman’s misfortune 

But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for what you see isn’t always as it seems. She told him that beauty, true beauty, is found within the skin. 

When he laughed in her face again, boasting of his own looks, his wealth and her lack of, dismissing her again, the woman’s outward, ghastly appearance melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress.

The prince’s followers and guests were astounded and scared by the sudden and unexplainable magic, and quickly started to flee the witchcraft they saw. The prince, not one to be made a fool of, became angry and insulted the witch. However, after a display of power, and the weird shocks he could feel across his body, he quickly fell to his knees. Prideful he was, he was smart enough to know when to bend for his survival.

He begged the beautiful woman for forgiveness, offering her fortune, money, influence, anything she wanted. But it was too late. She had looked into his soul, his heart and his mind, and saw that it was devoid of love and feeling.

As punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast, similar to the one he saw her as before. She placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there too, to ensure him of suffering like he had never known before.

But she left the rose, for it had actually been a truly enchanted rose. She told him, gave him a seed of hope, that if he could learn to love and gain another' love in return before all the petals on the rose fell and decayed, then the spell would be broken, and him and his peoples would be free. 

If not, and the rose died, he would be doomed to remain in his beastly form for all of time. 

As hours afterwards bled into days, and days in months, months into years, the Prince and his castle, his followers were all forgotten about; for the enchantress had erased all memories of them from the minds of the people they loved. 

As years and years passed, he fell into a self-loathing depression and rage. He ripped portraits and tore the castle apart in sorrow and rage. He and his people lost hope and despaired. For who could ever learn to love such a hideous beast?


	3. Sunshine

“Please?”

He held her hand, staring at it. Small. Pale. Too Pale. Fuck.

“One last time, for me?”

Sky blue was such an overrated color. Why would they make dresses out of them?

“Draco...”

And why call them gowns? A visit here was never something spectacular or grand.

“Draco.”

…

“You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine

You make me happy,

When skies are gray...”

She trailed off, waiting for him to finish it with her.

He forced himself to look into her eyes. Swirling, Caramel, Deep, Bright-

Dull. Fading.

“You’ll never know dear,”

The beeps were getting slower.

“How much I love you,”

He needed to quicken them. They couldn’t stop. He wasn’t ready.

“Oh please”

His couldn’t help his voice breaking

“Please...”

Her grip was loosening.

Her eyes were closing. She was always so tired, even in their school days. Too much studying, he’d said. Swot.

He choked, barely registering the salty drops pouring down his face.

The lights buzzed.

The rain pelted.

The machine wouldn’t stop making that flat, high pitched sound.

The nurses and doctors came in shouting.

But he couldn’t hear them. 

“Don’t take my sunshine away...”


End file.
